


The Differences Between Dreams and Reality.

by anxious_loser



Series: The Difference Between Dreams and Reality [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Hamilton - Miranda, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Homestuck, Steven Universe (Cartoon), Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7030615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxious_loser/pseuds/anxious_loser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine one day you wake up and find out that you were in a coma and you made up a whole life for yourself while you were sleeping. And your fandom was the reality of your world, an the life you live now was fake all along. And you wake up, and they're all huddled around you and they say "Welcome back" and "We were so worried!" and you feel so happy because it wasn't a dream and they're all real. (Also I'm trying to think of a better title for this, I know the title is weak)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harry Potter (Ron Weasley x Reader)

*2 weeks previous*

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Y/n...!" Your best friend Ron shouted from the ground. You were currently on the roof of the Weasley residence, preparing to jump into a muggle trashcan filled with water.

"Relax, Ronald, I've done this millions of times before!"

"Well sure, but from this high?!" Ron squinted and used his hand as a shield from this sun, trying to get a better look at you.

"Untwist your panties, Ron, I'll be fine! I'm jumping on three, okay? One..."

"Merlin, she's really gonna jump..." Ron muttered to his brothers Fred and George, who had just walked outside to see what Ron was shouting about.

"Two.."

Ginny and Percy came out to the yard as well, looking anxiously at the others to find out what was going on.

"Three!" With a small running start, you jumped, feeling your stomach drop. It felt as though your heart was beating a million beats a minute and probably began to beat even faster when you realized you were going to miss the trash can.

You instantly braced yourself for the impact, groaning when you fell flat on your back onto the ground. On your journey down, your head smacked into a metal trash can. Your vision blurred and your head pounded. You couldn't hear, but the last thing you saw was Ron's face anxiously checking you over, his eyes begging you to keep breathing.  
~

You woke with a start, clutching the back of your head. Your best friend, Y/f/n, stirred next you. It all came back to you at once. You were sleeping over at Y/f/n's house after a Harry Potter marathon.

"You okay? You seem a little shaken up, Y/n..."

"I'm fine, just a crazy dream, s'all."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Nah, it's fine."

Y/f/n shrugged and turned over. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," You laid back down, trying to shake the dream that felt all too real from your thoughts. Just as you were dozing off you realized something.

Up until a few days ago, you can't remember anything about your life. Everything just conveniently fell into place. It felt as though you've known these people forever but you also felt like you've been dreaming your whole life.

You frowned and tried to get back to sleep. This time, you were successful.  
~  
"Shh, shh, Ronald, she's waking up!" A feminine voice scolded.

"Well excuse me for getting excited, but she is my best friend."

You began to stir, struggling to open your eyes. Your head was pounding and it felt as though your whole body had been hit by a double decker bus. Twice.

"I heard she was waking up, is she okay?"

Come to think of it, these voices sounded all too familiar...

"Ron, Ron, is she awake yet?"

"She moved not too long ago, Mum, are Fred and George on their way?"

"They're with your father and Ginny, taking muggle transportation, dear. They should be here any minute."

Your eyes snapped open and scanned the room that was filled to the brink with your favorite fictional characters.

Hermione Granger, Ron and Molly Weasley, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. Judging by what you heard the rest of the Weasleys were on their way as well. Gradually, you began to take in your surroundings. You were in the hospital, hooked to a million different machines. It was nothing like any buildings in the Harry Potter world so you assumed this was an ordinary hospital. Your eyes eventually settled on a concerned looking Ronald, teary eyed and shaky.

"You're awake," He choked out, rushing forward to hug you. You instantly sat up, ignoring the pain and clung to the ginger. "I thought I'd never see you again... I thought I lost you. I was so scared, Y/n."

"I'm right here, Ronald. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm here..."

You weren't sure why this felt so real, why it felt right. You didn't know why you were in the hospital or how you even got there. What you did know, though, was nothing else has ever felt more real in your life.

Everyone in the room took turns greeting you, saying things like "Welcome back!" and "I'm so glad you're awake!" as they squeezed you half to death.

Three days later you were released from the hospital and began to accept that this was reality and that the life where Harry Potter was a book series was some twisted dream, a result of being in a coma for two weeks.

While you were hospitalized your friends filled you in on important details you were confused about. Turns out Harry was your twin brother, Ron was your best friend (Hermione also took the liberty of telling you he fancied you and you reciprocated his feelings but you both were too stubborn to make a move), and little things like you were a Hufflepuff, third year (like the rest of your friends with the exception of the other Weasleys), you were the most likeable person at Hogwarts, etcetera.

It's been a month since you left the hospital and you felt great. Despite having to constantly tell people about your weird coma dream, life was normal. You gained all of your memories back, you were passing all of your classes, and you had even made the quidditch team. To top off your fantastic first few weeks conscious, Ron asked you to Hogsmeade this afternoon and you were ecstatic.

The Hogsmeade trip was scheduled to start in an hour, which gave you forty-five minutes to get ready for your date and twenty-five minutes to panic about anything and everything. You started with a simple outfit: a tan shirt, dark jeans, and knee-high brown boots. You curled your hair, though almost certain it would be ruined by the snow outside and did your usual face routine. Once ready you gave yourself one last look in the mirror before meeting Ron, Harry, and Hermione by the great hall, ready for what just might be the best day of your life so far.

 

"It's beautiful isn't it, the snow?" You asked, leaning into Ron for warmth as the two of you walked aimlessly around, just enjoying each other's company.

Ron turned his attention to you, taking in your brilliant smile and flushed cheeks. His breath caught as he began to ponder what he had done to deserve someone as perfect and amazing as you. Taking his silence as a silent agreement, you continued looking ahead of you, not noticing the ginger's stare.

"Y/n..." Ron stopped, tightening his grip on your hand to stop you as well. "I've been wanting to do this for a while now..."

You turned on your heel to face the ginger but lost your footing on a strip of slippery ice. Ron instinctively stuck his arm out to catch you, only to land on the floor with a thud, you in tow.

The fall didn't hurt, whether it be because of the snow or because you had fallen on Ron was debatable, and you found yourself laughing at the awkward position to two of you had gotten yourselves into. Ron was on his back, the two of you stomach to stomach, faces merely centimeters apart. Ron began to laugh too and before you knew it it was silent again. You stared into each other's eyes, slowly closing the gap between your lips and his. Just before your lips touched, a familiar voice chimed in.

"Sorry, I was just, er- Hermione and I were going to grab some Butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks and we were wondering if you'd like to come with,"

You turned to find a flustered Harry fidgeting with his hands, struggling to keep his composure. His lips twitched every once in a while and you knew you'd never hear the end of this.

Ron stood up, pulling you up with him, and began to follow Harry to the warm, welcoming pub, begging him to keep his mouth shut about what he just saw on the way there. Once inside, you found Hermione and took a seat next to her, thanking her when she handed you a mug of Butterbeer. Harry and Ron were still outside, Ron with rosy cheeks that weren't just a result of the frosty wind, and Harry with an amused look on his face. After a few minutes, the boys walked in, Ron still blushing like mad. Harry said nothing as he took a seat next to you, gladly accepted the chilled drink you had handed him. "So, Y/n, is Ron a good kisser?" Harry casually looked away from his drink to gaze up at you, looking completely innocent. Hermione choked on her beverage, accidentally sputtering a bit onto the table as she fought to calm herself. Once she was certain she had stopped choking, Hermione turned to you.

"You kissed Ron?"

You frowned and felt heat rise to your cheeks. "No, our lips didn't even touch, Harry's over exaggerating."

"So you could have?"

You stayed silent, allowing Hermione to turn her attention to a certain very embarrassed ginger. Eventually, realization that you had actually almost kissed Ron settled in and you cheeks began to burn. Hermione noticed this, and surprisingly, began to tease you and Ron along with Harry.

The teasing was little annoying, yes, it had been a crazy month, but looking at your friends and family, your whole life in general, you wouldn't have it any other way.


	2. Supernatural (Dean x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it sucks, I'm sorry. Writer's block is hell, okay? I tried.

I stealthily made my way through the woods, looking for the witch my boyfriend, Dean, and best friend, Sam, and I were hunting. The witch had been causing trouble in a cute, quiet little town in Kansas, and when she caught wind of us coming, she bailed into the woods. Bitch. I raised my gun and turned around, preparing to shoot when I heard rustling behind me.

"Woah, easy there, tiger." Dean put his hands up in mock surrender, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, lowering the gun.

"Announce yourself before sneaking up on me, or one day I might just shoot you for the Hell of it."

Dean obnoxiously fake laughed before turning around to greet Sam who had just called out to us. I instantly smiled and made to walk over to him when he suddenly raised his gun.

"Y/n, look out!"

I furrowed my brows and turned to see the blonde witch swing something at my head, hard. I stumbled backward, my hand gripping my head where the witch struck me as Sam shot her. Dean rushed to my side and my vision began to blur.

"Y/n? Y/n, are you alright? Hey, hey, look at me." Dean gently grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

It was hard to concentrate, all I could think about was the searing pain on the left side of my head. My eyelids began to droop, and I tried to close my eyes, much to Dean's displeasure.

"Get her to the car, Dean. I'll be there in a minute." I could vaguely hear Sam speak, his voice sounding fuzzy.

"I'm tired, Dean...." I muttered, eyes closing.

"No, no Y/n you can't close your eyes. Look at me, sweetheart. You can't sleep right now, you might hurt yourself." I nodded, but my vision blurred, causing me to squint to try to clear it. I heard Dean talking, but his voice faded and soon everything was black.

 

*

I sighed as I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking at the analog clock by my bed. 3:03 a.m. Great. I rolled my eyes and slipped out of bed, knowing I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. I slipped into the kitchen and started the coffee maker, leaning against the marble island in the center of the kitchen as I waited.  
Slowly, bits of my dream started coming back to me and I sighed. For almost half a year I’ve been having the same dream about my favorite fictional characters Sam and Dean Winchester. It seemed to be a normal hunt, we were hunting a witch, but then I get hit in the head (which always hurts, by the way, I wake up with migraines more often than not) and that’s when I wake up. I’ve been to therapy, multiple doctors and psychiatrists, but no one could give me a solid answer as to why I was having these dreams.

Once my coffee was finished, I poured myself a bowl of cereal and opened the laptop that has been ever so conveniently placed on the kitchen table the night before. As I log in, I see I’ve gotten a new email. Thinking it was from my boss or co-workers, I open it. It was in bold font and italics. Here’s what it read:

Stop. Stop scrolling. Stop what you’re doing and listen. This isn’t your life. My name is Dean, and my brother Sam is helping me with this. You’ve been stuck in a coma for almost a year now, and Cas thinks he’s finally found a way to contact you. He thinks you should still be in touch with us, the Impala, and the family business. That’s why we think you’re so obsessed with Supernatural in your coma, because you realize where you belong. Wake up. Please, I can’t live without you. Sam can’t live without you. I can’t stand you gone anymore, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, I should’ve known, I could’ve stopped this. We could still be together right now. Just, please. Wake up.

I frowned and checked who sent it. It was from Dean’s email address. Honestly fans these days are going all out. Not that I don’t, it’s just how did they get my work email address, and how did they know I liked Supernatural?

I shrugged it off as a coincidence and stood up, immediately sitting back down, my hand pressed to my chest. I could’ve sworn I heard someone talking.

“You sure it worked, Cas? She’s still not moving.”

“You can’t expect it to work immediately, Dean, give it time- wait. Y/n? Y/n, if you can hear me nod your head.”

Slowly, I nodded and looked around the room.

“...I’m going crazy,” I muttered, standing once more.

“Not exactly, you’re just unconscious.”

“What, Cas, are you talking to her? Y/n! Y/n? Hey, sweetheart, it’s Dean, can you hear me. We really need you to wake up, now. We’re going crazy here without you. We all really miss you,”  
My left hand suddenly felt really warm. I looked down at it, furrowing my brows in confusion.

“She can feel you, Dean. She might be waking up.”

“This is all too real, I- What’s going on, if this is some sort of prank, I’ll-” And then it hit me, the realization came running at me like a freight train.

I really was in a coma, Team Free Will was real, they were talking to me, and my dream wasn’t a dream, it was a memory.

*

I sat up quickly, nearly bumping heads with someone. Looking to the side, I came face to face with the one and only, Dean Winchester. He’d been crying, I know that face all too well. H e didn’t say anything, just stared at me and pulled me in for a hug. As if my body had a mind of its own, I instantly hugged back without even thinking about it.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” He mumbled into my hair, still pressing me into his warm chest. “Sam’s out on a supply run but he should be back soon.”

I smiled and nodded. “I’ve missed you,” I blurted out, memories flooding back and making head pound. “So much. Comas are weird.” I pulled a face and Dean chuckled before pulling away.

“You know what I’ve missed?” He asked, a grin on his face.

“Uh...me?” I asked slightly confused.

“Your pie.” He answered. “You always make the best pie and I haven’t had any in months.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes, standing from Dean’s bed. Upon realizing it was Dean’s bed, I looked up at him confused. “Was I here the whole time?”

He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, well, we didn’t want you to wake up alone so, I thought it’d be best to- y’know, I didn’t - we didn’t, we were worried, okay-?”

I smiled and stood on my toes to softly peck his lips. “Let’s get you some pie, Winchester.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Author's Note:**

> The ending sucks, I'm aware, but I doubt I can make it any better at the moment so I apologize. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
